


One Early Morning

by Kahlan_Amnell



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-14
Updated: 2011-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-06 21:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahlan_Amnell/pseuds/Kahlan_Amnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron Hotchner arrives at the BAU early to get some work done. Little did he know that there was a surprise for him in his office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Early Morning

Aaron Hotchner had arrived at the BAU offices early that morning to get a head start on the paperwork involved with the cases he had consulted for. He sat his briefcase down in order to unlock his office door, then picked it back up and toed the door open. Preoccupied with the details of yet another case he would send his recommendations for, he carefully moved the hand without the briefcase, but was holding a paper cup of coffee, to the light switch, and flicked it on with his thumb. He then proceeded to his desk. At least, that was the direction he was headed in. A few steps, then his right foot had caught on something, and he tripped. Hotchner dropped his briefcase on the couch to free up his hand to break his fall. His coffee had fallen to the ground, and then was partially crushed by his hip.

The combination of having a briefcase land on his chest, a reverberating thud on the floor, and a growled "What the hell?" was enough to startle Spencer Reid from his position on the couch. He jolted upright, blinking the sleep away and panicked when he saw Hotchner.

Before Reid could say or do anything, Hotch had rolled over and sat up. He noticed first that his foot was caught in the strap of Reid's leather messenger bag, and then saw a mortified-looking Reid, who had shifted on the couch so that he was sitting cross-legged in the centre.

"Oh! Uh, Hotch, are you alright?" Reid blurted out. He grabbed his bag and started rummaging through it quickly. Pulling out a pack of tissues, he tugged out one and thrust it and the package into the unit chief's hand. Hotch had his other hand up to his nose, pinching it while using part of the palm to catch the blood that was dripping from it. Reid winced. "I-I'm sorry, Hotch. I-I-I, uh, here, let me help," he stammered, practically jumping up off the couch before he bent down to retrieve the crushed coffee cup and assisted Hotch up and onto the couch.

While dabbing at the blood and still pinching the bridge of his nose, Hotch spoke up. "Reid? Why are you here?"

Reid's gaze shifted around, and simply stated, "I work here." Avoiding the other's gaze, he tossed the paper cup into the wastepaper basket.

"That's not what I meant. Don't be obtuse. I want to know why you were sleeping on my couch." Hotchner's sinus cavities were aching slightly, due to the pressure from hitting his nose when he had fallen, and the subsequent nosebleed. He knew he should tilt his head downward, but he needed to look at his subordinate and for the eye contact that would happen eventually. It might be comforting for him to see that there was no anger in his eyes, just as there was no animosity in his voice.

While he answered, Reid's gaze flickered to Hotch's and then flitted away to the bookcase and its contents. "Well, I stayed behind last night to plow through the files on my desk. There were a few details on one case that were troubling me, and I wasn't tired. I had lost track of time, and realised that it didn't make sense to take the Metro home and commute back in a few hours. So, I, um…" he gestured at the couch. "I, uh, made use of your couch." He shrugged sheepishly, and added, "I had set the alarm on my cell phone to get me up at seven, so I would be out in the bullpen before anyone arrived."

Reid fidgeted from his spot in front of Hotch, fiddling with his watch and the cuff of his shirtsleeve in the silence that followed his excuse. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then back again while Hotch contemplated what he said. When the unit chief spoke up again, the anxiety spiked.

"You slept on the couch. In my office. I lock up when I leave at the end of every day." He noticed how uncomfortable Reid looked, and quickly added, "I'm glad you did get some sleep, Reid. Sleeping here is better than trying to drive exhausted, or worrying about how to commute home by other means."

Reid met his eyes, surprised that the lecture he feared wasn't coming. He gave a small smile, touched by the concern the older agent had. Then he paled slightly and wished the floor would open up underneath him at the next words Hotch spoke.

"I'd still like to know how you got into my office when I'm not here."

He gulped, and hoped the repercussions of his actions weren't too severe. After all, Hotch did just say he was glad that Reid had picked the safer option. That it was okay that he spent the rest of the night in the BAU. He wet his dry lips, and then launched into the explanation.

"Well, um, atmospheric pressures, temperature and humidity affect the air and structures—more notably in the lumber used in building constructs. Everything, to some degree, expands and contracts." When Hotch nodded briefly, he continued on. "When there's interacting parts, the joints and connections shift as the surfaces they're a part of expand or contract with the changes to the air and moisture. The door to your office, with the lockset mechanism, and the strike plate on the doorframe were initially aligned so that the door would remain closed and locked."

Hotchner was about to ask him to get to the point when Reid held up a finger, forestalling him. "With the shifts, the latch bolt doesn't completely catch into the latch-hole in the frame—unless you were to close the door and then give it a firm tug 'til the clicking sound of the latch bolt fully extending itself past the striker plate and into the hole."

When he realised Reid had finished speaking, Hotch stood up, looked from Reid to the door then back again. "So, you're saying that while I locked up, I hadn't checked to make sure it was secure."

Reid nodded enthusiastically, feeling relieved that it was all out in the open. It sounded preposterous, but it was within the realm of possibility—after all, it  _did_  happen.

Hotch tossed the used tissues into the trash can and took his briefcase to the desk. "Alright, Reid. I did ask, though that was a bit more about doors than I'd wanted to know. Go get freshened up." As Reid turned to leave the office, Hotch spoke up again. "If you happen to need my couch again, try to tuck your bag somewhere out of the way so that an incident like this won't happen again."

Reid looked at Hotch again. While the unit chief's face remained as stoic as ever, his eyes glittered with warmth and humour. He dipped his gaze to Hotchner's feet and flashed a grin before leaving. As Reid went to the break room to load up on his coffee, Hotch pulled out his go bag and went to the bathroom to change out of his coffee-drenched clothes. The rest of the day could hold off a little while longer.


End file.
